Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1), Babette Jongh [books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT] 📗

think so, not anymore. But Melody’s voice whispered in my ear—this was a sure thing, while my infatuation with Ian could still go either way. As could his infatuation with me.

“Here’s your coffee.” Ben handed me a cup already doctored with milk and sugar, exactly the way I liked it. “Do you want a bagel?”

I shook my head and took a sip of coffee, still stuck in a weird déjà vu twilight zone in which suddenly I had changed places with my doppelganger and begun living the life I’d left behind at that last, major crossroads.

Was my doppelganger now in New York, rehearsing for the next performance?

Ben sat at the kitchen table, unfolded the newspaper and shook it open to the front page. “How did things go?”

I pulled myself from the strange fantasy playing itself out in my head. “Interesting.”

“Oh?” He turned down the edge of the paper to look at me, and raised one eyebrow in that way that hinted at a bit of devil hidden behind his angel face. His blue eyes sparkled in the watery light that poured through the window. “Tell me.”

“Everything was fine, really.” I moved to sit across from him. I felt comfortable with him, as if we’d been living together for the last twelve years. I took another sip of coffee, and looked out the kitchen window at the now-vacant bird feeder Melody had hung on the dogwood tree. Something real to anchor me in the here and now.

Ben shot an inquiring look over the top of the newspaper. “And?”

“Amy was wonderful, as always. Maryann has been wonderful, too. She’s been helping out with the housework and the laundry, and getting Amy ready for preschool in the mornings.” I paused, when I should have kept going. “Jake...”

“Was not wonderful,” Ben supplied.

I regretted that pause. “He’s having a hard time.”

Ben made a sound of agreement. “Tell me about it.”

“We had an incident you’ll need to discuss with him.”

“What did he do?” Ben and I knew each other so well, I read all the unsaid things into those four words: I know he’s a handful, I’m sorry you had to deal with him, I’ll punish him and make him apologize.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” I hurried to correct Ben’s impression. “He had a wet dream. He thought he’d wet the bed. I had to explain—sort of, anyway—that it was normal for boys his age.” I waved my hand to close the subject. “You’ll have to really explain it to him. I don’t think I did so well.”

Ben laughed, reaching out to cover my hand with his. “Poor thing.”

“Yes, he was mortified.”

“No. I meant poor you, having to deal with that.”

“It was okay.” It seemed that Ben and I had slipped right back into our old souls-bared way of speaking about anything without embarrassment.

Ben laughed. “Thank God it was you instead of Lois with the kids last night. I don’t even want to think about how she’d have handled the situation.”

Again, warm honey trickled into my heart. I guess I would always love Ben, one way or another. I shrugged. “We did okay.”

“I can’t thank you enough. But I could at least take you to dinner tonight. I’m sure Lois would keep the kids.”

“Oh, Ben. That’s sweet, but I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Ben folded the paper down and peered at me. It must have been something in my voice. “What’s up?”

“I, um... I have a date.”

“Oh.” He was clearly surprised I had a date. “We’ll go Sunday, then.”

“A weekend date,” I clarified.

Ben’s mouth dropped open. “You... have...” he enunciated slowly, “a weekend date. As in all weekend long, nights included. You’re kidding.”

I sat up, bristling. “Now why would you think no one would ask me on a weekend date?”

“That’s not it.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I mean, it’s just not like you, that’s all. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone, unless—”

“Well, I guess I am. You remember that time you were late and—”

Ben dropped all pretense of reading the paper. He folded it and put it back on the table, curiosity and... something.... in his eyes. “Not... Not Ian Buchanan.”

My face heated, ramping up slowly but getting steadily hotter, until it was all I could do not to pick up one of the vinyl placemats and start fanning myself. I felt like a wife announcing her plans to commit adultery. “Yes. Ian Buchanan.”

“You’re joking.” Ben laughed, looked away, then looked back again. When I couldn’t stop blushing, his smile morphed into a look of amazement. Amazement, and something else. Jealousy?

“You’re not joking. Casey, Melody told me you hated him. What was it you called him? The Newspaper Nazi?”

Had Melody told Ben absolutely everything? What other secrets had she told him about me? “I was wrong about Ian.” I sniffed. “I didn’t know him then.”

“And you do know him now.” A hard note crept into Ben’s voice. “Just how well do you know him, Casey?”

“It’s none of your business, Ben,” I snapped. “Drink your coffee. Read your paper. I’m going home.” I flounced out of the kitchen, but the effect of my exit was ruined because I still wore my chenille robe and fuzzy slippers, and because I’d have to get dressed and pack my bag before I could actually leave.

*

The serenity of my clean, quiet home welcomed me. I checked phone messages then took a long, soothing bath. With both phones muted so I wouldn’t be disturbed by weekend telemarketers, I spread a towel over my pillow and indulged in a naked nap while my hair dried. I couldn’t wait to see Ian, but wanted to be rested and refreshed when I did. I didn’t want to look like the desperate woman he’d seen yesterday afternoon in the driveway.

A while later, dressed in clean jeans, with my teeth and hair brushed, I went to call Ian, only to find that he’d left a message while I was napping. My shoulders slumped when I heard his deep voice. “Lass, I’m so sorry, but